


Bringer of War

by orphan_account



Category: Bringer of War
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is an original fiction story detailing the lives of some of the human race after relocating to Mars following the destruction of Earth by nuclear warfare.Most of the population find it in their best interests to establish one singular government to prevent future wars. Some take issue with this, however - they believe the unified government can become too corrupt too quickly. And right they are. Pamela Aster was born at the start of the first rebellion and has since moved away from the conflict - yet she finds the shadows of her elders still loom over her. Fresh out of Mars' first prison for crimes she committed under her mother's instruction, she's right back in another mess after being asked to complete a risky mission that's almost guaranteed to land her back in jail, her friends are in more danger than they can ever imagine, and the newly established government is taking bold measures to relocate cities on the nearby moon Phobos back to Mars.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my own original story. All characters and their universe belong to me.

1

December 3rd, 2098

2:13 PM 

 

"Step forward," beckoned the officer, standing with his chest puffed out, the ultimate epitome of an authority figure. Pam watched as a small, mousy boy followed his mother towards the machine. "Step in one at a time, please." The lights flickered inconsistently overhead, contributing to the air of mild disarray and shabbiness inside the prison, as if the building itself was depressed and miserable. She sighed, taking in the paint peeling from the fading walls and the scuffed floor that were all too familiar to her.

"Step forward." Pam shuffled ahead apprehensively, even though she was more than accustomed to the procedure that was to follow. She stepped onto the rubber platform inside the body scanner. "Raise your arms and keep still," barked the officer. She took a deep breath as the scanner whirred, passing over her.

"You may proceed." 

She stumbled out of the scanner and continued down the hallway. Another line of people snaked around the corner. She took her place behind the mouse-haired boy and his exhausted looking mother and waited. Pam rubbed her eyes as the lights flickered once more. The distant noise of someone talking over a speaker echoed through the hallway, muddled and distorted.  "Come forward please," commanded another officer, female this time, but still maintaining the aura of power. "First and last name, please."

"Pamela Aster," she said. The officer scrolled through the tablet she was holding before looking up.

"And who are you here to see?" she asked sharply, awaiting a swift, honest reply. 

“Otis Grey."

"Are you his spouse?" This time the officer did not glance down at her tablet. This was a test, not an inquiry.

"No, no, I'm just a friend."

She stared at Pam, piercing eyes attempting to expose deceit. After a long pause, she spoke.

"You may proceed."

Pam wandered into the visitation room, darting eyes immediately finding Otis. He was tipped back, slouched into the curve of the cheap plastic chair, hands cuffed firmly to the table, gazing up in at the ceiling through the strands of hair that hung in his face like a veil made to conceal his thoughts and being from his fellow prisoners.  Pam took a seat facing the clear, reinforced barrier between them. Sensing her presence, Otis lowered his head back down to look at her, his face hardened and stoic. Pam swallowed hard and placed a shaking finger on the speaker button.

"Hi, Otis," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

He shook back his tangled, graying hair, staring expressionlessly at her through thick rimmed glasses. Pam forced herself to meet his gaze, attempting to interpret the emotion she saw in his faded blue eyes. Was it anger? Sadness? Or perhaps hope? He broke out in a grin, though the corners of his mouth remained pointed firmly downwards, as if his face was entirely unused to smiling.

Otis leaned forward deliberately slowly as if enjoying the bewilderment in which Pam was trapped, his long fingers stretched outwards to reach the button from the short range the handcuffs allowed. “Hi, Pam,” he chuckled, imitating the nervous edge in her voice. His fingertip remained holding the button, but he fell silent, still smirking up at her. She could hear his steady breathing echoing out from her speaker, the distorted noise all but emphasizing the distance between them, the thin plastic wall that kept the two friends impossibly separated. But perhaps the tension that hung in the air, the stiffness in Otis’s broad shoulders, and the uncertainty of whether the pair of them would ever speak on amicable terms again was the ultimate barrier.

 

“How are you doing?” she asked, interrupting the tense silence. Anxiety twisted like some foul, fluttering creature in the pit of her stomach.

 

Otis smirked, as if plotting his next words and finding satisfaction in the reaction they would bring about. “How do you think I am?”

 

“Right,” sighed Pam. “I’m sorry, Otis. I really am, but if I had stepped in they would have extended my sentence. I couldn’t-”

 

He held his hands up to silence her, which was no small effort considering the constricting, inflexible grip of the handcuffs looped around his bony wrists. “That’s not why I wanted to see you. I needed to talk to you, and since I can’t see my wife-”

 

“They won’t let you see Natalie?” She faltered under Otis’ glare, the thin line of his mouth lurching downwards in displeasure.

 

“Please. We only have five minutes.” He tipped forward to brush the hair out of his face once more. “Natalie has managed to escape to Phobos. She can’t return to visit me.” Pam nodded in understanding.  “There’s uh,” he nodded, as if to assure her that his next words rang true, “There’s something fishy going on. And I’d like to get a message to Natalie. And, for my own consolation, I’d like that message to be delivered in person.”

 

“And you want me to deliver it.” Otis nodded again. “I’m sorry,” said Pam, “But they won’t let me contact any of the moon colonies. I mean, I can’t even leave my housing unit on Mars. Everywhere I go, even if I’m just walking around the housing complex, they track me.”

 

“I know. They did the same thing to Natalie, remember? If she comes back to Mars, she’ll be arrested again.”

 

“I don’t want to be arrested again,” frowned Pam.

 

“Do you have a friend or someone who can deliver it for you? Someone you trust? Your sister?”

“I’m not allowed to see her,” said Pam.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’m fresh out of prison. That, and they don’t want me in contact with anyone I know. My friends, my mother, my sister, no one.”

“You know where your mother is?” asked Otis in surprise.

“Of course not,” said Pam crossly. “No one does, that’s why I ended up in here. All because of her and her great vanishing act. And anyway,” she said, sitting up straight, “I’m sure you’ll find yourself in my exact situation in seven to ten years.”

“That, uh, that might be sooner than you think,” said Otis, looking thoughtful. “Ah, I’ll come out with it. They’re letting me out early, okay?”  
  
“What? Why?”

“That’s the thing. I have no idea why, I really don’t. I mean,” he laughed, “it seems pretty counter-intuitive, right? They spent years tracking me down, I was at the top of the most wanted list for months! I did some pretty heavy damage, and now I’m paying the price. And then suddenly they want to take ten whole years off my sentence?” He gestured wildly, at ends with himself.

“Well, they let me out early, didn’t they?”

“They let you out early because they decided, and rightfully so, that you couldn't be convicted of crimes you committed as a child because you were under your mother’s influence. I made my own choices. I put myself here.”

“But you did what you thought was right,” argued Pam. “I mean, this unified government thing, it’s ridiculous. You were fighting for what you believed in.”

“We judge ourselves on our intentions and others on their actions,” he said brightly, as if the phrase provided all the wisdom necessary to clarify the moral fog surrounding their conversation. “Natalie told me that.” He glanced at the clock pinned to the wall, which seemed to tick louder with each second, reminding them of their limited time together. “I need you to ask her to investigate why they’re letting me out early. She lives in colony four, in city seven.” Otis waited, anticipating the moment in which his words would sink in. “City seven? Also known as Lucky City?” Pam’s eyes widened and she shook her head quickly.

“There’s no way I’m going to a black market city,” said Pam. “I can’t end back up in here.”

“There’s a guy called Con Emery in your unit. He’ll help you. Tell him I sent you and he can get you to the colony.”

“Why can’t he deliver the message?”

“I don’t trust that bastard,” said Otis. “But I do trust that he’ll help you get safe passage to Phobos, if I offer him enough money.”

“Otis, I can’t! I won’t do it!”

“Pam,” he said slowly, voice low and barely audible. “This has to happen now. Irene Blackwood, you remember her? She’s hanging threats over Olivia. She wants to be rid of us, and I know she’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

“So? Things were like that from the start.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got Kelsey on her side.”

Pam scoffed. “Yeah, there’s no way that’s happened. She hates Blackwood!”

“She hates me more,” pointed out Otis. “Just please tell me you’ll deliver the message!”

“Otis, listen to me! If I leave Mars, I’m breaking the law! And that means once I leave, I can’t come back, or I’ll be arrested! That’s if I don’t get arrested on Phobos, by the way.”

“Pam, you have to do this for me!” said Otis. “Besides, you kind of owe me one,” he reminded her. “I mean, after what happened…”

“So now you’re guilting me into it?”

“Guilting you?” he thundered, rising from his chair and lurching forward, his nose mere inches away from the glass. “I had eleven stab wounds. It’s a miracle I even lived. It still hurts. Everything still hurts.” His hair had fallen into his face again, framing his narrowed eyes, simmering with anger. “I took care of you, Pam. You’re so weak. You can’t defend yourself, yet I made sure you were protected at every moment.” he hissed. “And what did you do?”

An officer strode into the room on Otis’ side of the barrier. “Time’s up, Grey!” He swiftly unhooked Otis’ wrists from the table and hauled him to his feet.

“And what did you do!?” shouted Otis, loud enough to be heard through the plastic without using the speaker. “YOU THREW ME TO THE WOLVES!” He struggled against the officer’s firm hold to remain in sight of Pam. She stared at Otis, unable to look away, feeling impossibly heavy with guilt and shame.

And with the image of a man bordering on the cusp of insanity, kicking and screaming in pure unbridled rage, still burning firmly in her mind, Pam left the prison.

 


	2. Chapter 2

2

March 7, 2097

9:51 AM

 

Cold fingers tangled in the blonde, frizzy mane arranged tall and proud like a crown of some sorts, perched upon the poor, lowly scalp of Pam Aster. They twisted and combed, searching thoroughly, before pulling away quickly. “That’ll be all,” said the officer. “You can get dressed now.” Pam shakily pulled on the uniform laid out for her, struggling with the feelings of finality, as if by abandoning her civilian clothes she was abandoning the last shreds of personal liberty. She followed the officer down the long hallway, which was lined with windows. Large groups of prisoners, some threatening, some despondent, and some just mildly curious, all watched her, the new arrival, shuffle further and further into the depths of the prison.

“Here’s your cell,” announced the officer, revealing a small, empty brick room with two shabby beds bolted to the walls. On one wall there was a tiny window facing the outside, and on the other hung a warped plastic mirror.  

Pam nodded. The officer swept from the room, adjusting her uniform as she did so. Pam took a seat on the threadbare comforter that was tucked neatly into the corners of the bed frame as if it was trying to hide its own deterioration by appearing tidy and orderly. She rifled through the box of supplies she had been given with mild interest. 

“You’re on my bed.” Pam looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. She was wearing a hoodie that had clearly met a pair of scissors, and at some point during this tragic introduction had lost its sleeves to leave a frayed vest of sorts. “Move!” She reached down and yanked Pam roughly to her feet. “What’s your name?” The woman kept a firm grip on the front of Pam’s shirt, lifting her onto her toes.

“Pam Aster,” she squeaked. The woman released her hold and stepped backwards. Her mouth twitched downwards almost imperceptibly. “Who- who are you?” 

She glared at Pam. “Grey. Olivia Grey.” A speaker crackled overhead. 

“Attention! Breakfast has now begun.” Olivia tied her hair back and adjusted her glasses before walking to the doorway. 

“Don’t you want food?”

“Not hungry,” muttered Pam, staring at the floor. 

“Come on,” urged Olivia. “Sit with us, at least.”

“Us?”

“Yep. You might see some familiar faces.”

“I really don’t think there’s anyone that I-” started Pam. 

“I’m sure there will be.” Olivia snatched Pam’s wrist in her fist and began to drag her to the door. 

“Ow! Hang on!” cried Pam, trying to twist away, but Olivia was stronger. As they passed through the hallways, people looked strangely at them. “Stop!” she yelled. Olivia relaxed her grip slightly. 

“You gonna stay with me?”

“Yes,” hissed Pam. Olivia let go, and Pam rubbed her wrist irritably. “Why is everyone staring at me?”

“Because you’re an Aster,” said Olivia. “People are going to have a high expectation of you and your influence, so you better come off strong.”

“I’m not my mother.” said Pam. Olivia clicked her tongue. 

“Well, you better start acting like it if you want to survive around here. Stop staring at the floor, for starters.” A large group of people shoved past them. “Hey, watch it!” hollered Olivia. After no response came from the crowd, she shook her head irritably. “Stay out of their way, okay?”

An officer approached them. “Grey!” he barked. “Come with me.” 

“What’s going on?” asked Olivia, surprised. 

“Irene Blackwood is here to see you.” The other prisoners in the hallway turned and murmured at the name.

“What? What does she want?” 

“Now, Grey!” Olivia hurried after the officer, looking back anxiously at Pam and offering a weak smile. Pam shuffled ahead, trying her hardest not to keep her eyes pointed down, as if the difficulty of acting confident was what made her head slump down. She reached the cafeteria, a bright, busy room filled with people. Finding an empty table in the corner, she hurriedly sat down. 

“Aster? Pam Aster?” called a voice. She looked up to see a man who was nearly a perfect replica of Olivia, from the tangled, greying hair to the thick rimmed glasses. 

“Yeah?” asked Pam nervously. He took a seat next to her. 

“Everyone’s talking about you,” he said nonchalantly. 

“I know,” said Pam, knitting her brow. “It’s rather uncomfortable.”

“I saw you walking with my sister. Are you settling in okay?”

“Sister?”

“Yeah. I’m Otis Grey,” he said, holding out his hand. Pam shook it apprehensively. “I’ll go grab you a tray,” he said, rising from the table.

“Oh! Thank you,” said Pam quickly. Otis gave her a nod as he slipped into the line of people waiting for their food. As soon as she was alone, the group of people that had run into them in the hallway strode quickly to the table. A tall, thin man at the front of the crowd leaned uncomfortably close into Pam’s face. 

“We saw you with Olivia Grey this morning. Are you the one who’s been doing her dirty work on the outside? Huh?” Pam made to escape, but her back was already to the wall, the man’s hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. “Say something!”

“I don’t - I don’t know!” cried Pam. She gasped as he pressed a plastic knife to her throat. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know her! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Hey! HEY! Get off her!” shouted Otis, knocking the man sideways. The rest of the group converged on them. A wayward fist swung backwards into Pam’s face. Someone else shoved her, and she fell to the ground.

“Break it up! Break it up!” yelled an officer, him and several others pulling the group apart. “I don’t want to see this again!” he growled. “You too, Grey.” 

“You okay?” asked Otis, helping Pam to her feet. She gingerly touched her cheek, which was already beginning to swell. “Let me see,” he said, angling her head back. “Yeah, you’re gonna have a nasty bruise there.”

“What was all that about?”

“Olivia and I, some of the people locked up here for the rebellion, we’ve gotten into a bit of a feud with Robert and his crew.” 

“Robert?”

“Robert Derrick. He was a government official. His wife died in our last arson attack. Poor guy went off the deep end after that and landed himself in here. Technically it was your mother’s doing, that final fire, but since she’s not around to take the blame for it, he’s been going after her co-conspirators instead. You might remember some of us from when you were little.”

“Who else is there?”

“Olivia and myself, my wife Natalie, Vince and Frieda Ellis,” he said. A warm memory of a woman sitting on the floor, reading her a book, flashed in through Pam’s mind. 

“I remember Frieda,” she said slowly. 

“Yeah?”

“What about Richard Wayne?”

“I don’t think so,” said Pam. 

“Oh, here they are now!” said Otis. He introduced Natalie, wispy and blonde, Vince, a short, twitchy sort of man, his wife, Frieda, who looked motherly and kind, and last of all Richard, who smiled warmly at her. 

“I saw what happened with Robert,” said Frieda, taking a seat. “You don’t have to worry. We’re going to protect you.”


	3. Chapter 3

3

March 7, 2097

10:36 AM

 

The officer lead Olivia to a dark room tucked away in one of the corners of the prison, unlocking a door and holding it open. “Inside,” said the officer. Olivia stepped inside, realizing the officer did not follow her. “Go on,” he prodded, shutting the door behind her.  _ Like a lamb to the slaughter _ , she thought uncomfortably. The room was a large, dim storage area that seemed to be out of use. A thin layer of dust coated the floor and the air was dank and damp.

“Olivia!” cried the shrill, complacent voice of Irene Blackwood, a striking contrast to their gloomy, dark surroundings. “How  _ nice _ to see you again!” Olivia glared at her, failing to return her lavish greeting. Irene stepped into the light. She was an older woman, perhaps near Olivia’s age, but appeared more knowing, as if her rich accent and elegant composure granted her some sort of rare wisdom. The edges of her angular visage were highlighted by the orange glow streaming down from the single lightbulb above.  “I have a task for you,” she said quietly.

“I’m not interested,” snapped Olivia.

She laughed coldly. “Oh, Olivia. You don’t seem to realize your predicament, do you?” Irene edged dangerously close. “You tried to destroy a government. You left people to perish and die in your recklessness, in your selfishness.”

“One unified government isn’t the answer,” she replied stubbornly. “It corrupts too easily.”

“Humans are fickle creatures. There always must be a leader. One who speaks for everyone. One day you will understand this.”

“Look, Ms. Blackwood, as much as I love arguing about this topic, I’m really busy. What do you want?” asked Olivia.

“I need you to find me some information.”

“You want me to rat someone out?”

“If that is the term you choose to use, then yes.”

“No,” said Olivia, folding her arms. “I’m not doing anything for you.”

“You committed some serious crimes, and let’s face it, you carry a reputation in our justice system. I could easily pin you to another crime your peers committed. I could earn you another five, ten or fifteen years in here? Is that what you want? To grow old - er - older in here?”

 

“What do you want me to do?” whispered Olivia, slightly frightful. 

“Pamela Aster. She must know the location of her mother, she just simply refuses to tell the authorities.”

“Okay? That’s not really my problem.”

“Yes, it is,” said Irene assuredly. “She’s a problem for everyone. She’s dangerous.”

“She has a sister, doesn’t she? Why can’t you ask her?” 

“Her sister is vastly different. She’s less naive. The poor thing already believes that authority has no good. We’ve tried to interrogate her several times. Nothing has come of it.”

“If Pam’s so naive, then why is she a problem?” Olivia crossed her arms. 

“The blood of Candace Aster flows in her veins. The woman who has worked so hard to destroy everything my father and I built. She has grown up in the chaos that you have created. You and I don’t know what she’s capable of. We need to eradicate her.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Olivia, her heart sinking.

“Get close to Pamela Aster. Befriend her. Make her trust you. Make her reveal her secrets. Find the location of her mother. And once you have given that location to me, kill her.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

4

May 23rd, 2097

2:12 PM

 

 

“Pam? Can I get you something to drink?” asked Olivia sweetly. 

“I’m alright, thanks,” replied Pam, engrossed in her book. Otis, who was sitting on the bed beside her, chuckled. 

  
“I don’t know what it is,” he said, “but I’ve never seen Olivia be this nice to anyone.”

  
“It is odd,” said Pam, frowning thoughtfully. “I’m not really the kind of person people like. Well, I like to think it’s not me that’s the problem, it’s my lineage.” Otis hummed thoughtfully. 

“You’re pretty shy, you know. That’s half the problem. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing like her. Your mother, I mean. You’re opposites, in fact.”

“Really?” asked Pam, surprised. 

“Yeah. You should be proud of that, of being different from her.”

“I thought you were friends.”

“We were,” said Otis slowly, as if he was uncertain about their closeness. “Her and Natalie were closer, though. They had a falling out, and then Candace and I grew apart.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s alright. Natalie gave up her location in exchange for less time. They would have locked Candace up for good, but she escaped after about two months. I don’t blame Natalie. Candace deserved it.” Pam nodded. “Natalie didn’t. You don’t deserve to be in here either.”

“Thanks for noticing,” said Pam. 

“Yeah,” said Otis. 

“What about you? Do you think you deserve to be in here?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I still believe deeply that one single government is not the answer. If I had the chance to fight what’s still going on, I would. But I hurt people, innocent people, and I think I deserve punishment for that.”

Pam fell silent. “I guess,” she said uncertainly. “But they have a point -  if we have a unified government, we won’t have another war. I mean, we can’t afford to have one. We’d wipe ourselves out entirely.”

“Well, the people on the moon colonies have already been separated from the Mars colony by a generation. They’ve already developed a different culture. The Martians can’t accurately represent the outside colonies.”

“What if they had representatives from the moon colonies?”  

Otis shook his head. “But that’s not in their plan. All the factories, the food production, it’s all centered here. It makes sense that the government would be too. And you can’t just shift those productions to the moons. You know how hard it is to get materials there anyway. And that’s Blackwood’s plan - to make it difficult to ship basic materials and food to the moons. Whatever is shipped up is heavily taxed, a hindrance to everyone, especially because Phobos and Deimos don’t have a universal currency. Once they’re hungry and broke, those people will just migrate to Mars, and the moon colonies will be no more.”

“Wow,” breathed Pam. “I just - they’ve really kept me in the dark about all this.”

“On purpose, I bet. Everyone seems to think you’ll turn into a miniature Candace Aster in the blink of an eye.” Pam nodded in somber agreement. “But,” said Otis, leaning in closer, “Blackwood’s plan is starting to backfire. All these people don’t want to move, clearly. If I wasn’t in here, I’d be doing all I can just to stay on Phobos. It’s my home. It’s where I grew up. 

But when everyone’s poor and hungry, you find different sources of income. Phobos has a large collection of black market cities. People manufacture drugs with toxic chemicals. The brave ones have a network on Mars to steal supplies and ship them up to use as barter materials. As long as their free barter system continues, the Phobians can remain for another ten or twenty years. And any Martian interference will further cement their aversion to government. So far Blackwood hasn’t come up with a way to snuff the moon colonies without fanning the flames of another rebellion.”

“Do you think there’d be another rebellion sometime?”

“Unlikely,” said Otis. “They’d stamp it out much too quickly. After the bloodbath we initiated, they wouldn’t risk taking their time and wind it down quickly.”

Richard ducked into the cell. “Hey Otis, we need you to come out here for a second.” Pam followed Otis into Natalie’s cell. Vince, Natalie, Olivia and Frieda were standing inside. The pair could hear Frieda before they saw her, as she was shouting loudly at Natalie. “Why don’t you want to do it? You should get out of here if you have the chance!”

“Because, Frieda, I don’t want to rat someone out again! You saw where that got me last time! Candace came at me with a knife!”

“You lived, didn’t ya? With barely a scratch to show for it! I’d be jumping at the chance to get out of here!”

“Darling,” said Vince, placing a calming hand on Frieda’s shoulder, “do you really want to stir things up with Robert’s crew again?” Frieda growled and twisted away from her husband. 

“Don’t,” she warned.

“What’s going on?” asked Otis. 

“I’ve been offered a deal,” said Natalie. “Blackwood wants me to pin a major drug crime on these two people. Apparently they’ve all but conquered the market on Phobos.  One of them I’ve never heard of, she’s called Kelsey Holt. The other one is Shawn Langley, one of Robert’s guys, he came in a few months ago on an unrelated charge. And if I do it, I get out immediately.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Natalie. “I don’t know if these people are even guilty, and I don’t want to put innocent people in here. Or extend their sentences.”

“Kelsey Holt?” asked Frieda. “I know she’s guilty. She’s all but conquered the drug market in Lucky City. You’ll shake things up by taking her down, but she ain’t innocent.”

“And what about Langley?”

“I have no idea. But if it hurts the enemy, I say go for it,” said Frieda.

“Robert’s not the enemy,” said Richard softly. “He’s just a lonely, grieving man we’ve managed to cross paths with.”

“Violently and repeatedly,” muttered Olivia under her breath. “Totally not the enemy, right?”

“Ollie, please don’t do this,” groaned Otis. 

“Do what?”

“Rile everyone up just for the sake of it.”

“What? I’m not - I’m an equal part of this group too! Am I not allowed a say?” said Oliva. 

“Fine! What do you think we should do, then?” demanded Otis. 

“I think Natalie should take the deal!” said Olivia.

“And stir things up with Robert?” questioned Vince.

“The guy threatened Pam with a knife! He’s been a problem for months!” shrieked Olivia, throwing her hands in the air. 

“A plastic butter knife. It was a plastic butter knife,” reminded Richard. 

“Still a weapon,” grumbled Frieda. “One hard stab in the neck, and then…” 

“Look,” interrupted Richard. “It’s Natalie’s choice.” he turned to face her. “I trust you’ll make the right one.” 


	5. Chapter 5

5

May 24th, 2097

12:34 AM

 

Irene’s shoes clacked along the scuffed prison floors.  Some thought she was peculiar for dressing in old Earth fashions, but she rather enjoyed the aesthetic of high heels. Pausing outside the bars of Unit 4, she listened. 

“You need to get out of here,” said Otis softly. Irene could hear Natalie sniffling. 

“But I don’t want you to be alone,” she whimpered. 

“Baby, don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Otis, I don’t know if I can do this!”

“Of course you can. Tomorrow you’re going to ask to see Ms. Blackwood, and you’re going to tell her that Shawn Langley and Kelsey Holt are guilty. You’re going to get out of here, and you’re going to be happy. You’re going to live your life.”

“Okay,” said Natalie, stifling her sobs. “Okay.”

“Shh, it’s alright now,” soothed Otis. 

Irene smiled to herself. Everything was falling into place. 


	6. Chapter 6

6

May 24th, 2097

9:08 AM

 

Pam was seated in the cafeteria with the others when Natalie rushed in. “I did it,” she said breathlessly. “I’m getting out tomorrow!” A wave of congratulations passed around the table. 

“That’s - that’s really good, Natalie,” said Pam hurriedly. Natalie smiled sweetly at her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to Otis, “I have to go get my things in order. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

“Sure thing,” he replied. “Love you.” As Natalie left, Richard shook his head, frowning. 

“This is not good,” he said. “This is not good at all.” 

“Look, we can handle Robert’s guys,” said Frieda. 

“He’s only half the problem,” he replied, unconvinced. “What happens when this Kelsey Holt person shows up? If she’s at the top of Lucky City, that means she has influence. Both inside and outside of this prison. And when the truth comes out about who turned her in, what’s she to do? Go after Otis? Maybe Olivia? Send someone on the outside after Natalie? She’d harm the people close to her - that means us.”

“They said that Natalie’s identity would be protected,” said Otis.

“If someone put me away for twenty, maybe twenty-five years, wouldn’t you want to know who it was? I’d be doing everything I could to find out!”

“Exactly, Vince. Any promise of anonymity isn’t worth anything,” said Richard. 

“I think you all are overreacting,” said Frieda stubbornly.  

“I think Richard has a point,” said Vince. “I don’t even know the first thing about Kelsey Holt, but already I can see she’s a much bigger threat than Robert.” 

“And look at the circumstances of this deal in general - why offer Natalie the deal? Why not choose someone with a lesser history?” suggested Richard. 

“A lesser history?” asked Frieda. 

“Yeah, like maybe not choose to release someone who, historically, has posed a threat to the entire government system?” said Vince. 

“Maybe they picked her because they knew she would say what they wanted to hear? She’s ratted people out before,” said Freida. 

“That’s not it,” said Richard. “You saw how hesitant she was to make another deal, especially after what happened with Candace.” He looked at Pam. “Oh, right, you probably don’t know about that. Natalie-”

“Gave my mother’s location in exchange for a decreased sentence? Yeah, Otis told me.”

“I see. She escaped too, I’m guessing you know.”

“It was the most genius thing I’ve ever seen,” said Vince excitedly. “That was one smart woman.” 

“No kidding,” said Olivia. “I wonder where she is now?” She eyed Pam carefully, who shrugged. 

“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her since I was fifteen years old.”

“She’s pretty darn good at hiding,” said Frieda. They stopped their conversation and looked up as an officer approached them. 

“Olivia Grey, Ms. Blackwood has requested to see you,” he said. 

“What does she want?” asked Olivia. 

“Just come with me.” Brow furrowed in confusion, Olivia got up from the table slowly. “I don’t have all day,” said the officer. Richard watched Olivia leave, deep in thought.

“Blackwood has been seeing her often,” he said. 

“I don’t think it’s a big deal,” said Otis. “She has no motive against us like Robert does.”

“You’re right, she doesn’t. She merely feels that her beliefs, especially in the government, are the only correct ones. If you ask me that’s just as bad since we so blatantly disagree with all of it,” said Richard, collecting his tray. “When Kelsey Holt arrives, be ready. Anything could happen.” He rose from his seat and left the cafeteria.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. The end is nigh, right?” said Frieda once he was out of earshot.

“Frieda, he does have a point though,” said Vince thoughtfully. 

“So what? You’re on his side now?”

“I’m not on anyone’s  _ side.  _ I just think he might be right about Kelsey.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

7

May 24th, 2097

9:46 AM

Olivia stood, shifting nervously with her hands in her pockets as she waited outside the door of the office Irene Blackwood occupied. She could hear the woman’s shrill voice approaching, engrossed in conversation with what was perhaps another officer. The door handle turned and then opened slowly. Irene looked particularly stern today, her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. “Keep up the good work,” she said to the officer as he departed. She turned to Olivia. “Ah, Grey, so glad you’re here!  I’m so sorry to keep you waiting!”

Herding Olivia into her office, she slammed the door shut and rounded on the prisoner. “Why are you failing to complete your task?”

“Ms. Blackwood! I’m not failing!”

“It’s been over two months since we last spoke. You seem to be no closer to the Aster girl.”

“That’s not my fault! She’s so shy, you wouldn’t believe it!”

“You’re absolutely right! I do not believe it! What I believe is that you are not trying hard enough!”

“I am! I am trying my best! I really am!” shouted Olivia. Irene’s nostrils flared in anger. “And you can relax about it, okay? We have the next fifteen years together anyway!”

“You expect me to wait  _ fifteen years  _ for you? No, no no. Time is of the essence here, Grey! I expect this to be finished come the end of July, or I will considerably extend your sentence.” Olivia huffed, defeated. “Do we have an accord?”

“Yes,” said Olivia through gritted teeth. Irene looked her up and down, smirking in her victory. 

“Hurry along now,” she said, waving a hand towards the door. Olivia glared at her one last time before stomping away. 

Irene sat behind her desk, suppressing a flinch as Olivia slammed the door. She reached for the telephone placed a few feet away, pressing the handset to her ear and dialing the number at the same time. Her assistant answered not a second later. “Albert, could you please fetch me my morning tea?” she asked calmly. 

“Right away, Ms. Blackwood,” came the response. “Oh, and Thomas Bedford rang. They’ve got Kelsey Holt in custody and they’ve just notified prisoner Langley.” 

“Already?” asked Irene in surprise. “Well. If Thomas calls back, make sure to let him know I applaud his department’s efficiency in this matter.”

“I’ll get right on that, Miss,” chirped Albert before hanging up. Irene quietly set down the phone. She reached for the papers scattered across the desk, gathering them up into a pile, then tapped their edges against the rich, glossy wood so that they formed a neat stack. In a few days time, Kelsey Holt would be arriving, bringing with her what may be the solution to nearly all of Irene’s problems, as well as the potential to destroy everything Irene has worked so carefully to put in place.

Albert entered the office, holding a tray with a single cup of steaming tea in an ornate mug. “Your tea, Miss.” 

“Thank you, Albert,” said Irene, reaching for it eagerly. She sighed, holding her hand over the cup and feeling the warm steam brush over her skin. Irene grasped one of two sugar packets, smiling in satisfaction as she tore open the flimsy paper. Sugar was a luxury, and she could have all that she wanted. As the fine grains tumbled into the cup of hot liquid, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves. 

The phone rang again, its harsh electronic chirp bringing Irene out of her reverie. “What?” she snapped upon answering it, slightly irritated. 

“Prisoner Langley would like to see you, Miss.”

“I’m a very busy woman, Albert. I have no time to meet with prisoners requesting unscheduled visits.”

“Says it’s very urgent, Miss.”

Irene was about to rattle off the reasons why this prisoner of all people lacked the importance to interfere with her work, when she looked up suddenly, an idea forming. “Alright, send him in.” 

The door burst open moments later. “Fifteen years?” demanded Shawn, angry and red faced. “You’re giving me fifteen more years!” His face crumpled with emotion. “I only had three months left! I was getting out!”

Irene stirred her tea placidly. “Then perhaps you should have avoided crime, hmm?”

Shawn sputtered. “That’s- that’s not -”

“That’s not what, Mr. Langley, that’s not the truth? I had a witness tell me just this morning that you did indeed spread drugs through Phobos City Seven, along with your partner, Kelsey Holt.”

“Someone ratted me out? Who?”

“They will remain anonymous by request.”

“Come on,” whined Shawn, “Can’t you just tell me?” He leaned forward intently. “You know, like off the record?”

“Off the record?”

“Yeah. Like I wouldn’t tell no one that I know, and I wouldn’t tell ‘em you told me either.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of what ‘off the record’ means,” said Irene, mouth twitching in something akin to amusement. 

“So?”

“You’ve just asked a government official to break the law and put someone in potential danger. This is very serious, Langley.”

Shawn scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll go then?” He turned to leave. 

“Wait,” called Irene. “I’ll make a deal with you, Langley. I’ll tell you who turned you in.”

“Yeah? What’s the catch? What do I have to do in return?”

“There isn’t a catch. Consider it a gesture of goodwill after your particularly harsh sentence.”

Shawn relaxed visibly. “That’s alright then. I appreciate it.” Irene removed the tiny silver spoon from her teacup.  _ This was too easy, _ she thought. For a fleeting moment, she glanced at the top paper on the nearby stack. It was Natalie’s file, all signed and stamped by the required officials and ready to be tucked away upon her release tomorrow. “So?” prompted Shawn. “You gonna keep me waiting? C’mon, who turned me in?”

Irene smiled and sipped her tea. “It was Olivia Grey.”


	8. Chapter 8

 

8

May 29th, 2097

11:57 AM

 

A large crowd had formed around the windows facing the entrance hallway, whispering and nudging each other excitedly. Otis and Pam pushed through the masses of people to where Frieda and Vince were standing. “What’s going on?” asked Pam, reaching up onto her tiptoes to peer through the windows. 

“Everyone’s saying Kelsey Holt just arrived,” said Vince, frowning, “but I haven’t seen her yet.”

“I heard they never even caught her!”

“I heard she’s escaped!” said another.

“She hasn’t escaped! I saw her in transport his morning!”

“If you saw her, why isn’t she here yet?”

 

Pam turned to Otis. “Did you hear from Natalie yet?” 

“Yeah, just now actually. She’s planning on going to Phobos as soon as possible.”

“I thought you had to stay on Mars for at least a year after you were released?”

“You do,” confirmed Otis. “Here’s the thing. You remember I was telling you about Natalie turning your mother in?” Pam nodded. “We’re pretty sure Candace has it in for Natalie. But being newly released, she isn’t allowed to own a weapon, and there’s no way she can illegally get one on Mars.”

“So what you’re telling me,” said Pam slowly, “is that you think my mother will come out of hiding to go after Natalie?”

“Yes.”

“But isn’t it safer on Mars? I mean it would be stupid for her to come here. They’d catch her in an instant. ”

“Not necessarily. Candace can easily have someone already living on Mars taking care of her business. Natalie and I both agree she’d be better off if she had access to a weapon, even if it means never coming back.”

“But that means she can’t visit you,” said Pam. 

“I realise that. I’m not totally alone though - I have Olivia and the others. I’ll do the rest of my time, and then I’ll go to Phobos and be with her again.”

“About that,” said Pam, “Just how much time do you have left?”

“Ten years left on a twenty year sentence,” said Otis, frowning. “But on good behavior, only seven years.”

“Ten years, that’s- that’s a lot,” said Pam, eyebrows raised. 

“Tell me about it. I’ll be sixty five when I get out. Natalie won’t even want to look at me,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” said Pam, chuckling along.

“You’re too nice to me, you know,” said Otis. “I’m a hardened criminal. I don’t need friends to compliment my dashing good looks.”

Pam burst out laughing. “You’re a what now?”

“I’m dangerous, don’t you know?” Otis grinned. “Don’t get too close, I’ll stab you!”

Olivia surveyed the pair from a distance as they chortled together. Otis had unintentionally gotten closer to Pam than Olivia could ever manage. She weighed her options. Was it possible Pam had confessed to Otis? Could she tell Otis about her arrangement with Irene? She moved closer to Otis. 

He turned, noticing her presence. “Hey Ollie,” he said, squeezing her shoulder in greeting. “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I had a run-in with Robert and company this morning.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing. He just told me that I’d ‘pay for this’. I’m not sure what that means, because normally I deserve whatever he throws my way, but I really don’t know what I did wrong this time.”

“It couldn’t be about the deal Natalie made, could it?”

“No way. The only people who know about it are you, me, Frieda, Richard, and Vince. Oh, and Pam. And it takes a week or more to arrange a meeting with any legal officials. It’s only been a few days.”

“Just stay safe, okay?” said Otis. “Now that Natalie’s out, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Olivia nodded.  

Just then, the crowd had begun to murmur again. Shouts of “Look!” and “She’s here!” rang out. Their fellow prisoners pressed closer to the windows, everyone eager for a glimpse of the latest arrival. 

Kelsey strode into view, her hands cuffed behind her back, escorted by no less than three officers. She looked straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. The side of her face looked bruised and bloody, as if there had been a struggle. The crowd had begun to bang on the glass, trying to get her attention. 

The officers came to a halt, conversing with each other. Kelsey shifted impatiently, glaring straight ahead. Then something had evidently caught the corner of her eye, as she turned to face the windows. Her eyes locked onto Otis and Olivia. 

With a sickening jolt, Olivia realized Kelsey’s features were very familiar - because they were her own. Messy hair tinged with streaks of blonde, an upturned nose, narrowed eyes, a round chin, and a thin mouth fixed in a permanent scowl. She was a Grey through and through. 

“Otis,” she said, her calm tone concealing the shock she felt, “Is that - Is that -”

“Oleander,” he finished, voice shaking. “Oleander Grey.”

Kelsey glared at Otis, baring her teeth. The officers had begun to move again, grabbing Kelsey’s shoulders and dragging her forward. She twisted around to give Otis a final threatening stare before they pulled her out of site. 

“What was she looking at us for?” asked Vince. 

“Us?” said Frieda. “She was looking at you, Otis.” Otis had gone pale, relying on the wall for support. “Otis? Are you okay?” asked Frieda, concerned. 

“I have to - I have to get out of here. All these people…” he broke free of the crowd and started to run down the hallway. 

“Otis, wait!” cried Pam, jogging after him. They reached an empty part of the prison, where Otis stood with his back against the wall for a moment before sliding down it to slump on the floor. Pam sat cross-legged next to him. “Otis, who was that? She looked like you.”

He took a few gasping breaths. “I have, or I had, a daughter. Natalie and I, that is. We gave her up for adoption when she was six. Things were bad, back then. It was too risky to have a child involved in what we were doing. I never saw her again. As an adult she refused all contact with us.”

“What did you say her name was?”

“Oleander. She’s clearly changed it. It’s risky, as I’m sure you know, to be associated with any of the families involved in the rebellion. And now we’ve given her twenty years in this place. My own fate.”

“Otis! You didn’t know it was her!” 

He ran a hand over his face. “It’s not only that. Where she ended up - it wasn’t a good place. She probably would have been better off if she had grown up with us. I know some truly awful things happened to her, and by the looks of it, she blames me for them. Soon she’ll figure out who turned her in, and then she’ll have not one, but two reasons to kill us.”

“Kill us? But – but that’s crazy, she’s not going to kill us, right?” Otis gave her a grim look. “Right?” Pam pressed anxiously.

“I can’t tell you what she’s going to do, Pam,” he said, “but I think we both know that she’s capable of harming us if she so desires to.” Pam inhaled sharply. “Look,” he sighed, “just keep your guard up, alright? Stay close to the group.”

“But Natalie’s the one who turned her in, not you or me,” she said doubtfully.

“If I end up dead, Natalie will be crushed. We’ve grown close as well; I’d be distraught too if anything happened to you.” She nodded, biting her lip anxiously.

“Are you going to be okay, Otis?”

“I think so, yeah. I’ll try to contact Natalie before she leaves and tell her what’s going on. You should head back to the others, okay? Make sure Olivia is okay.” She stood up, hesitant to leave Otis. “You’re going to be fine. We care about you, and we want to make sure you’ll be safe. Just do what I said, yeah? Stay with the group and you won’t be a target.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Otis,” said Pam, turning and heading back down the maze of hallways. Hearing rapidly nearing footsteps, she looked up to see Oliva, her head down, shuffling along quickly. The older woman nearly ran into Pam before noticing her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Where did Otis go?”

“I think he went to request a visit with Natalie,” said Pam.

“Yeah,” said Oliva, glancing nervously behind her. “Yeah, that’d be a good idea. C’mon, let’s keep moving.”

“What’s going on?” asked Pam, staying firmly in place.

“I said let’s keep going!” she said exasperatedly, giving Pam a nudge. “I think Robert’s guys are following me.” She followed Olivia back to where her and Otis were sitting just moments ago, then kept going towards the staircase that led to the other levels of the prison. “They confronted me just this morning,” said Olivia. “You probably heard me telling Otis about it.”

“He really has it in for you, huh?” asked Pam as they entered the stairs. 

“Yeah,” she replied. “I mean, we didn’t get off on the right foot, seeing as how the rebels accidentally killed his wife and all, but when he first got into prison, we had a confrontation. I told him that it wasn’t my fault that his wife ended up dead, it was Candace’s, but he wouldn’t have it. I was arrested for that fire instead of her, so that puts the blame on me in his eyes.” Olivia sighed. “I used to have this locket. Otis gave it to me when we were kids. Back then, consumer goods were even rarer and even more pricy, but he saved up and got it for me as a birthday present. I snuck it in here after I was arrested. Like a reminder of freedom or something, you get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah,” said Pam. 

“Anyway, he must have gone into my cell after our fight, and found it under my mattress. I’m pretty sure he destroyed it. I told Vince about it, and he beat up Robert pretty bad. He was in the medical unit for like a week, it was really serious. After that, he paid a guy on the outside to burn down my house on Phobos, like the rebels used to do to government buildings. Kind of an eye-for-an-eye type deal. Then I had my own guy mess with Robert’s son. I didn’t even do nothing! All he did was threaten him a little bit, but Robert considered that to be going too far, and now he’s out for my blood. The trouble is, sometime between the arson attack and my retaliation, he assembled himself a little crew, so now we’re totally evenly matched,” explained Olivia. “Now he thinks I’ve done something else wrong, which makes him want revenge even more, but I don’t know what I’ve even done!” 

Olivia stared at Pam, her eyes begging for an answer. Pam shrugged, bewildered. “I know about as much as you do,” she stated, frowning slightly. A commotion from below quieted them. The pair peered over the railing on the stairs. Robert, Shawn, and a third man that Pam had seen with them before entered the stairs. 

“Get down!” hissed Olivia, crouching down to conceal herself behind the cement railing. A round of exclamations from below prompted them to peek over the edge once more. “Oh no,” said Olivia. Kelsey was approaching the group, who all greeted her enthusiastically. Shawn, the shortest and smallest of the three, stepped forward and embraced Kelsey. She shook hands with Robert and the other man as well. The group turned and began ascending the stairs. “C’mon!” said Olivia, and the duo scampered up the third and final flight. 

Olivia quietly pushed open the door to the third floor of the prison. “I’ve never been up here before,” remarked Pam after the heavy steel clicked shut behind them. 

“Really?’ asked Olivia, surprised. 

“Yeah. Well, my cell is on the first floor, and the library is too, so I guess I just never had a reason to come upstairs. Speaking of which, what is up here anyway?” asked Pam.

“If you want to request a visit with someone, you can meet with Mr. Marlowe, his office is just around the corner. There’s some more cells for less threatening prisoners; I guess they keep them up here because they don’t need as much supervision. Let’s see, what else? Oh yeah, Ms. Blackwood’s office is here too. It used to be like a temporary thing, but it looks like she’s here for good. You’ve met her, right?” asked Olivia. Pam shook her head no. “She’s a tall, older blonde woman? Usually wears Earth fashion?” prompted Olivia.   
  


“No, wait, I remember now,” said Pam slowly. “I think she was there when they interrogated me after I was arrested.”

“They interrogated you? What for?”

“They wanted to know about my mother,” said Pam. “Like everyone I meet does.”

“What’d you tell them?” asked Olivia, sensing the opening. 

“I told them that I don’t know where she is,” said Pam.

“Well that’s what you told them, but is it the truth? Do you know where she is?”

“Why are you so interested?” snapped Pam, the subject still very touchy. Olivia threw her hands up in surrender. 

“Forget about it,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she sighed, “is there anyone you’d like to have a visit with?” 

“Not that I can think of,” said Pam. 

“No friends that you miss?”

“I didn’t really make friends when I was in the group home,” she replied glumly. “We were all more focused on surviving. It was a rough place.”

“You have a sister though,” remarked Olivia. “You don’t want to see her?

“I was eleven the last time I saw her.”

“You don’t want to catch up with her?”

“Olivia, I haven’t seen her in nearly ten years. I can’t just ‘catch up’ with her,” said Pam quietly, staring at the ground.

“Oh, like you have something better to do? Because sitting in your cell reading all day is really fulfilling!”

“Why do you care? She’s not your sister!”

“I don’t care!” yelled Olivia. “I really don’t! But if you’re going to be all uppity about it-”

“Fine,” said Pam. “Fine! I’ll have a visit with her, if it’ll make you happy.” She turned, stalking off towards where Olivia said Mr. Marlowe’s office was located. Prisoners were lined up outside the door, impatiently jostling each other. Pam slipped into the back of the line, trying her best not to be conspicuous, but the large, hulking man in front of her swiveled around to stare at her. A flicker of recognition passed over his face. 

“Aster,” he said simply, without surprise or contempt, and turned to look through the nearby window. Pam did so as well, gloomily surveying the tall, barbed fence and the dusty terrain that lay beyond it. She could vaguely make out the large dome surrounding Mars’ largest city in the distance, where she was raised from the age of twelve, having been put into a group home after her mother had made her famous disappearance. 

“Pam?” She started, glancing around to see who had called her name. Otis was smiling at her.

“I get to see Natalie next week,” he said, beaming. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to-” she gestured to Mr. Marlowe’s office. She shook her head. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“Who were you going to visit?” asked Otis. 

“My sister. Olivia talked me into it.”

“Why don’t you want to see her?”

“I just don’t, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking strangely at her. 

“Wanna go to the library?” asked Pam, desperate to change the subject. 

“Sure,” he replied, gesturing for her to lead the way. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

9

May 30th, 2097

4:18 PM

 

Irene sipped her tea slowly, her eyes fixed on the display in front of her, watching the feeds from the security cameras. Olivia was moving quickly through the hallways, checking the surroundings behind her almost obsessively, her fast, scampering steps and darting glances making her appear almost rodent-like in character. She smiled to herself as she noticed the stress and franticness in the prisoner’s movements. Clearly Shawn had encouraged Robert to further the chase.

Her phone rang. She set her cup down on the saucer and reached for it. “Thomas Bedford is here to see you,” said Albert. 

“Send him in,” she said promptly. A moment later the door swung open to reveal Thomas, a middle-aged man dressed smartly and carrying a folder full of documents. “Good morning,” she chirped amicably. “Please, sit down.”

Thomas took a seat facing Irene’s polished desk. “The department has asked me to complete an evaluation of your progress here at Mars Correctional Facility. You’ve been appointed here since January and so far we haven’t seen any advancements regarding your objectives.” Thomas flipped open the folder of documents. “However, you have released prisoner Natalie Grey, a known rebel. You do understand that such actions show a certain counterproductiveness towards our goals?”

“I understand perfectly,” said Irene. “By the end of August, I expect to have Candace Aster in custody and my objectives completed.”

“Candace Aster was not part of your objectives,” said Thomas, scowling.

“Consider it a very attractive bonus,” replied Irene smoothly. 

“And you expect to accomplish this in only three months?”

“Yes.”

“You have an impressive work ethic,” praised Thomas. “But I have not seen any visible action yet. Can you provide a timeframe of when the terminations will occur?”

“Certainly, Mr. Bedford,” said Irene. “I expect to have two of them completed in less than a week.”

“And Natalie Grey? Why was she released?” His eyes roamed over Natalie’s file. “It says here she gave information relating to the crimes of Kelsey Holt and Shawn Langley.”

“Yes, I offered her a deal,” said Irene.

“We have traced her recent communication with others on Phobos. It appears that she is making plans to escape Mars.”

“Nothing to worry about,” chirped Irene. “She is under twenty-four hour surveillance. And I had good cause to release her, especially under the circumstances of the deal we made.”

“You’re referring to Langley and Holt?”

“Yes. All of this is part of the plan,” she said.

“Irene, I’m not here to question your methods you use, as long as it gets the job done. However, I am aware that you and Holt had something of a personal relationship,” said Thomas. 

Irene’s face hardened. “That is correct,” she said. 

“I thought the general consensus was that Holt was to remain a free woman on Phobos.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Irene,” snapped Thomas. “Despite the controversy of Phobos’ drug trade, I believed it to be clear that it provided some order to the people. The drugs were the closest thing Phobos has had to a universal currency in years.”

“If Phobos is unstable, does that not provide an opportunity to increase government measures there?” asked Irene. 

“I disagree,” replied Thomas. “When the Phobians are pacified and calm, they are more receptive to change. These are stubborn people. When times are tough, they refuse to back down. The removal of their ‘leader’ will only agitate them more.”

“Kelsey Holt was never a leader,” said Irene.

“She gave the people order.”

“She is chaos, plain and simple.”

“So why is she in your prison?” asked Thomas, annoyed. 

Irene gave a saccharine sweet smile. “So that I may complete my objectives, Mr. Bedford.” 

Thomas stood up and leaned over Irene’s desk. “Listen very carefully, Irene. I will be monitoring you. If I see anything, anything at all, happen between you and Holt, I will not hesitate to remove you from this prison and complete the objectives myself.”

Irene’s mouth twitched. “You’ve nothing to worry about, I promise you.”

“Good,” said Thomas, giving her one last scrutinizing glare over his shoulder as he left the room. 

  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

10

May 30th, 2097

4:23 PM

 

Olivia panicked as she rushed through the halls. They were following her again, trailing her like a pack of wolves hunting down their prey. The unmistakable movement, the slight turn of a wrist she had seen just minutes ago still burned in her mind.  _ One of them has a weapon,  _ she thought. Where was Otis? She had to find Otis.

“The library,” she breathed, turning and hurrying in the opposite direction. Not a moment too soon she reached the heavy steel doors propped open with stacks of books. She raced inside, searching desperately for her brother. “Otis!” she whispered loudly, spotting him on the other side of a shelf, stocking books. She pushed some of the books to the side so they could see each other through the gap. “Help me, you have to help me!”

“Ollie, what’s going on?” Otis moved away from the space in the shelf. 

“No, Otis, wait!” she whined, then realized he was moving over to her side of the shelf.

“What’s wrong?” asked Otis, his arms full of books. 

“They’re following me! Following - me - again,” she gasped, unable to draw a full breath. 

“Who’s following you? Olivia, calm down!”

She swallowed. “Robert. And his crew. One of them has a weapon, I saw it! They’re out to kill me!”

“I think you’re under a lot of stress, Ollie. Believe me, you’re fine!”

She shook her head frantically, still panting for air. “No! I’m not fine! I’m in danger!”

Otis set the books down on the ground, then reached for Olivia’s shoulders. “Deep breaths now, okay? You can stay here and help me stock books, okay? There’s people in the library; if they were going to harm you they wouldn’t do it here.”

“Okay,” said Olivia, her breathing slowing. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” said Otis, giving her a reassuring smile. He reached for the stack of books and handed half of them to his twin sister. “This doesn’t have to do with all those meetings with Blackwood you’ve been having lately, does it?”

“No,” squeaked Olivia. 

“Then what have they been about?”

“She- she just wanted more information about Oleander before they arrested her. I should have known, Otis, I should have known Kelsey was Oleander! ‘Cause why else would they be questioning me about her?”

“So you’re saying Irene knew that I’m her father?” asked Otis, placing a copy of  _ World War III, a Complete History _ on the shelf. “Isn’t it endangerment if we’re in here together?”

“Of course it’s endangerment! You saw the way she was looking at you,” said Olivia angrily, slamming a shabby book, its bindings loose and flimsy, onto the heavy metal shelf. 

“Careful with that,” said Otis, scowling at the mistreatment of the heavy volume. 

“I’ve noticed,” said Olivia, “Well, it’s just - do all the books here kinda suck?”

“Yes,” said Otis, sulking. “Yes, they do. You know how expensive books are. They wouldn’t spend that much on prisoners. We used to get new books, but a certain government official has stopped that program in its tracks.”

Olivia sighed. “I’m so ready to get out of here,” she said wistfully. Otis snorted. 

“We’ve got ten more years, don’t get excited,” he chortled. 

“It’s just so boring,” said Olivia. “And that makes it seem even longer.”

“Why don’t you take up a hobby?” suggested Otis. 

“Like running for my life from Robert Derrick?” asked Olivia, picking up a worn book that read  _ Old Earth Recipes in the New Mars Age  _ in fancy gold lettering. 

“I was thinking something like reading,” he said. 

“I don’t like reading,” she replied, frowning. “I can hardly find something worth reading.”

“Here,” said Otis, handing her a shiny new copy   _ Establishing Peace for Good: Mars Government and Unified Colonies.  _ “There’s something worth reading. It’s Blackwood’s book about her government agendas. Notice how it’s the only undamaged book in this entire library?”

Olivia reached for it. Brow furrowed, she flipped open the cover and began to read: “In the wake of humanity’s destruction, we rose from the ashes just as the phoenix does, and took flight, into a new world just as shimmering crimson.” She frowned. “Look outside, dumbass. I don’t see a single crimson thing out there.”

“Go to the table of contents,” said Otis. “There’s a whole chapter about the prison system.”

Olivia did as she was told, flipping open to the center of the book. “Just as those who yearn to build, there are those who yearn to destroy. Those who aim to ruin our experience on the most beautiful planet humans have ever settled on. These people are not worthy to walk among us.” She grimaced. “That’s pretty extreme.”

“Remember when we were little, and Mom used to complain about how ugly Mars was?” said Otis.

“Yeah,” said Olivia, closing the book. “I remember.”

“Hang on,” said Otis, slipping off to another shelf. “Here,” he said, clutching a large, flat book. It read  _ Planet Earth _ in white blocky letters. The siblings sat together on the floor and slowly opened the book to reveal a glossy photo of Earth. 

“It’s so blue,” breathed Olivia. 


	11. Chapter 11

 

11

May 30th, 2097

4:59 PM

 

Irene’s door creaked opened, revealing an officer. “Prisoner Fisher here to see you, ma’am. I have Derrick waiting in the hall, as per your request.” Irene smiled and pushed the papers aside on her desk. Troy Fisher, a large, tall man who was proudly serving as Robert’s closest confidant, lumbered into the office. 

“What do you want?” he thundered, glaring at Irene. She smiled for a moment, then her face snapped back into her usual scowl. 

“Sit down,” she ordered. He did so, folding his arms defiantly. “How long do you have left on your sentence, Fisher?”

“Six years,” he muttered, refusing to make eye contact. 

“How would you like that to be six weeks?”

Troy looked up, surprised. He narrowed his eyes. “What do I have to do for it?”

“Nothing much, really,” said Irene, fiddling with a pencil. “Just a little favor.” He glowered at her. “I need you to, erm, take care of some business for me.” She reached into her desk and removed what was once a plastic toothbrush, its head snapped off and the end filed into a deadly point. She placed it on the desk between her and Troy. 

“What? Are you serious right now?”

“Fisher, I am deadly serious,” replied Irene, rolling the pencil between her fingers. 

“No,” said Troy, shaking his head. “There’s no way.”

“Don’t you want to leave the prison? This is the easiest way.”

“But… but I’d be killing someone!” shouted Troy. Irene shushed him hurriedly.

“Keep your voice down!” she hissed. 

“I can’t do it,” said Troy worriedly. “I’m in here for smuggling food rations! I can’t kill someone!”

“Consider my offer rescinded.” Irene snatched up the plastic weapon and tossed it into her desk drawer angrily. “We’ll speak again before your release, six years from now.” Troy remained sitting tensely in his chair, his face stoic. “You can leave now,” said Irene. 

“Wait,” said Troy. “Who do I have to-” he gestured wildly in an attempt to avoid speaking the loaded words. 

“Frieda Ellis,” replied Irene. 

“One of the old rebels?”

“Yes.”

“Robert is-” started Troy. 

“I am aware of Robert’s aversion to the former rebels,” interrupted Irene. “You may inform him of our meeting. I am certain he will approve.”

“I was gonna say that Robert is going after Grey,” said Troy. “The chick? Otis’ sister?”

“I know who Olivia Grey is, Fisher.”

“Yeah, well, if the goal here is to get rid of the rebels, then why not go for her? The bitch ratted out my buddy Shawn, you know.”

“I have use for Olivia Grey,” said Irene. “I need your and Robert’s understanding that she will not be harmed.”

“Look, I don’t think you understand how big Robert’s grudge is. He won’t suddenly forgive her,” said Troy. 

“I am not asking for forgiveness, Fisher. I am merely requesting a pause on any plans in the works affecting Ms. Grey.” She reached down to retrieve a paper from her desk cabinet, then slid it across the desk to Troy. “Deliver this to Robert, please. Don’t let anyone else read it.” Irene straightened in her chair. “So, do we or do we not have a deal?”

“What if I get caught? I could be in here for twenty more years!” fretted Troy. 

Irene looked up abruptly. “Then don’t get caught.”


End file.
